


Dumb bunny

by luemeldane



Series: The Tales Of The Bunny And The Fox [1]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: First Impressions, First Scene, First Talk, M/M, Mind Games, Pre-Slash, Psycological Games, Slow Burn, bill's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 00:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luemeldane/pseuds/luemeldane
Summary: “Dumb bunny.” Was the only thought that came to his mind. And as he followed the other, he felt a little bit like a sly fox.“Smoke?” He finally offered, but didn’t sit down. He wanted to enjoy the advantage of the higher ground just a little bit more.





	Dumb bunny

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! So, as I've said before, this couple just begs to be written about. I mean, come on! The old grumpy gentle bear and the overexcited, intelligent but naive puppy... it's just perfect! I fell in love with Bill the minute he appeared on the screen and I think there's so much potential on their complementary personalities that I just had to pay my homage to this fandom - shall it's life be long and prosper!
> 
> This is the first chapter of my series of one-shots. There's no romance in this, but it's my reading of their first scene together and I think it is very important to prepare the stage for what is to come. On the long road, this one-shots will build a real story, but they will follow no specific logic. This is a reading of a real scene, the next one might be a purely invented one. Who knows? But chances are that I'm gonna chose my favorite scenes of this pair and write my view of them and of what never got to the screen (maybe because it only happened in my head, but nobody cares about this technicalities, right?)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing. Analyzing the details of the scene was just so much fun!! I wonder how it's gonna be when I got to the motel ones...
> 
> And just one more thing before I leave you to it: this work is not beta-ed and english is not my native language. It will probably have some mistakes. If you find any of them, please let me know. It will help me a lot!

_ When Shepard had appeared in his office seemingly out of nowhere to warn him that a newbie would be looking for him to ask permission to do some unorthodox exercises and that he had to shut the boy down once and for all, Bill knew immediately that he was in for some trouble. But had he known back then just what kind of trouble he would be facing a few months ahead, he would have runned to the hills instead of cornered Holden Ford in the Bureau’s cafeteria.  _

 

\---x--- 

  
  


If pressed hard enough, Bill would concede that what moved him on that fateful day was a tid bit of arrogance. When Shepard had told him about the new guy with some visionary ideas (which was a highly depreciative adjective by the Bureau standards), he saw an opportunity. This boy was most likely a naive agent that joined the FBI out of a romanticized view of it, thinking that he would be able to fight the bad guys and make the world a better place. It was the kind of person that amused Bill the most and that was prime material for manipulation. That’s why he had a complete plan already designed in his mind before he set out to catch his prey. 

As much as Bill loved the Road School, all the traveling around always became really tiresome really fast, especially since he was on his own. Having someone to help with the elaboration of the presentations, with the preparation of the materials, with the lectures themselves and to share the wheel from time to time would make everything a lot easier on him. Reducing his workload would be the excuse he’d give to anyone who asked why he was trying to lure a junior agent to his project. He would also point out that it would give him a great deal of free time and he would actually be able to enjoy the places he went to instead of making constant hit and run trips. What he would never admit, though, not even to himself, was that he was also lonely. In the beginning it had been liberating to have an excuse to be away from his troubles at home and just hit the road. But as time passed by, the once blessed silence became more and more heavy. Turning on the radio didn’t help anymore, because as much as the people talked through it, no one ever listened. So maybe, but just maybe, Bill also wanted some company. 

If it came in the form of an idealist kid who he would have to desillusion along the way, “ _ so be it _ ” he had thought.

 

\---x---

 

The only thing he had seen of Holden Ford was the mugshot that accompanied the first page of his registration file. He hadn’t bother to go beyond that. He was fairly certain that he knew what he would find. In his official picture, Agent Ford showed an upstanding and rigid look, but Bill knew better. That photo was taken following some very strict protocols and everyone looked the same on their own. To have the kind of ideas and attitude Shepard had mentioned, this kid must be one of the alternative kind. Probably he would have messy hair, wear a purposely misaligned suit and maybe a shirt or a tie of questionable colors - if  he was wearing a tie at all. He had seen it before, agents wearing no tie and two open buttons on their shirt. Sometimes they would have heavy glasses on their faces, giving off an intellectual vibe that didn’t fit the place at all. Those never lasted much, unless the system could bend them into it’s mold. 

With this clear image in his head, Bill strutted into the cafeteria where someone had told him the man he was looking for would be. His eyes made a quick scan of the place and found no one remotely resembling the image he’d seen on his desk just a few moments ago. Maybe the guy had taken a detour to the bathroom or something and hadn’t got there yet. He decided to wait and in the meantime, he engaged in some small talk with an old colleague that was sitting there too. He kept looking up from time to time, attention shifting between the conversation and his self-given task, until he finally saw him. 

He recognized the man immediately, but he was taken aback by what he was seeing. All of his presuppositions about Holden Ford crashed and burned to the ground instantly. There was no difference whatsoever between the picture on the file and the face he was currently looking at. The pale and unblemished skin was molded by perfectly combed hair, not a single thread was out of it’s place. The color scheme of his suit was classic, elegant and discreet. His expression was one of seriousness and even if he was just getting some food, he seemed dutiful. It didn’t matter from what angle you looked at him, the kid was the perfect FBI offspring (or should he say spawn?), nothing about him seemed to justify Shepard’s absolute exasperation.  

“Bill?” His colleague called and brought him back to reality. He apologized for spacing out and excused himself quickly, truthfully saying that he had to speak with someone. 

He was conscious that his posture as he approached Agent Ford might have seemed overconfident, but he had to establish their positions from the very beginning. He was already taking the initiative by seeking the kid out when he was the one who needed a favor from Bill, but it must be clear that it wouldn’t come without a price. Also, Bill took some pleasure by intimidating the juniors with his broad frame, military stance and husky voice. He knew he had a strong presence and that he gave off a dangerous vibe, even if he talked smoothly and wore ties with some questionable patterns just to spite whomever would bother to judge him. In many ways, Bill fitted the system, but he simply didn’t in so many others that it was actually funny, in a very cynical way.  

“Holden, right? Holden Ford?” He asked casually. 

“Hi.” Was the short response and Bill had to make an effort not to laugh at the awkwardness of the salute. It was like the man was not used with dealing with unexpected approaches. 

“Bill Tench, Behavioural Science.” He introduced himself, stuffing his chest discreetly as he extended his hand towards the other.

“Great to meet you!” Albeit still awkward, Holden seemed to be connecting the dots. His posture relaxed a little and Bill would swear that he saw the dark orbs in front of him lighting up a little. Also, he seemed completely oblivious to Bill’s attempt to assert dominance through body language. 

“You had a beer with Peter Rathman?” The older man proceeded, inconspicuously trying to make Holden spill everything by himself. It would be no good to sound like he was interrogating the kid. 

“Interesting guy. I was kind of disturbed about what he said.” Too easy. Way, way too easy. In the blink of an eye, Holden’s stern expression shifted to one of pure wonderment and the fickle light he’d seen before blowed into a goddamned pyre. Now Bill could see what had worried Shepard so much. This guy personality was like a combustible substance: apparently innocent and harmless when left alone, but if met with the smallest of sparks - boom! 

“You were, huh?” Bill mused, more to himself than anyone else. “Can we sit?” He added nonchalantly.  

“Yes, please!” Ford promptly said and turned around to find them a table. The taller man couldn’t help the malicious smile that bended his lips.

“ _ Dumb bunny. _ ” Was the only thought that came to his mind. And as he followed the other, he felt a little bit like a sly fox. “Smoke?” He finally offered, but didn’t sit down. He wanted to enjoy the advantage of the higher ground just a little bit more. 

“I don’t smoke when I eat.” On his mental file, Bill noted: need for justification. 

“Wanna go outside?” He chanced. 

“I don’t smoke when I don’t eat either.” Another note: does not outright deny things. Takes the longer route. “So, did Shepard talk to you about my thing?” Holden sounded expectant. 

“He did his best.” Bill said sarcastically. The likes of Shepard hardly understood anything out of the ordinary, let alone explain it. 

“What does that mean?” His answer seemed to have surprised his interlocutor, which was his goal. He had to disarm the kid, make him think he was on his side in this. 

“He can be pretty old school.” That seemed to have hit a mark, if Ford’s exasperated sigh was anything to go by. “I call this place ‘The Country Club’ because, you know, it can be a little starchy sometimes”. 

“I hear that.” The boy said he leaned back against his chair. Jackpot. 

“You went back to College, right?” Now that he had gained the man’s trust, it was time to thread into more unsteady ground. 

“UVA.” There was wary pause before his answer, as if he was evaluating if he was about to be mocked again.

“How old are you, 26, 27?” 

“Twenty nine.”  

“That’s interesting. A lot of guys your age don’t wanna go back to school because they feel it undermines their authority.” This question came out more assertively than he had meant it to be. He didn’t want Holden to feel like he was being backed up against a wall, even though it was exactly what Bill was doing. 

“I was hoping it would give me some authority.” Self-conscious. Humble. Not conceited. Bill kind of liked the guy. 

“He’s got you doing recruitment right?” 

“Yeah, well… I’m there, so I might as well make myself useful.” Not satisfied, but not resented either. Does not agree, but understands. 

“Most guys don’t want to get stuck doing recruitment. Their are busy trying to work on their way upwards.”

“I guess I’m busy working my way sideways.” The answer felt like a challenge. Bill definitely liked the guy. 

“You are what they call a ‘blue flamer’. You know what that is?” Bill shot back with a condescending smile painted all over his face. He never backed away from a good challenge. Holden’s expression remained the same for a second too long and the older man thought he was going to say yes just to stand his ground.

“No, what does it mean?” His expression changed so quickly that Bill almost didn’t follow. He furrowed his brows questioningly. Honest to a fault.

“You are so eager to do good you have a big blue flame shooting out of your asshole.” That sounded mean even to Bill’s ears. But the deflating sigh Ford let out hadn’t sounded sad at all. It was more theatrical than anything. 

“Oh. Is that bad?”

“Just take it slow. You’ll get there in the end.” He advised as if to compensate for the previous stinginess. 

“I’m just trying to a better instructor.” It sounded like it was true, but not like the whole truth. Actually, it sounded like a very small fraction of the truth. 

“Right, well, I was thinking about that.” Finally they got to the point in the conversation where Bill had wanted them to be since the beginning. He changed his position, leaning forward and propping his elbows over his thighs in an almost predatory manner. It was time to pounce. He glared with calculatedly piercing eyes at his unsuspecting victim. “I started this thing a couple of years ago. I go out in the road and give classes to various Police Departments, from Buffalo, New York, to San Diego, California. There’s a million cops out there who want to know what we know. So I go to them, give them a distillation of what we teach here and they tell me what they’ve been doing. They learn something and I learn something first hand by getting involved on their level. But it's a big job, you know? I'm up to my neck in local law enforcement.”

He tried his best to explain his project in just a few words. Through the explanation, he watched Holden’s demeanor carefully. To say that the man was interested would be the greatest understatement of the century. He looked at Bill as if the older agent was wolding the Holy Grail itself on his hands. He could already feel the taste of the younger boy’s neck between his clenching jaws. 

“Would you want some help with that?” The man in front him gave a hard and dry swallow before speaking carefuly and tentatively. That was it, Bill had him on the spot. He leaned back again and crossed his arms. The expression on his face was the image of self-satisfaction itself. 

“Maybe we could help each other.” Bill concluded, and just like that, the dumb bunny had given himself on a silver platter to the old sly fox.

Or at least, that’s what Bill had thought.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was it for now guys! Please, let me know if you liked it or not. Criticism and advice are always welcome to help me get better at writing. Also, the number of kudos and comments affect the speed of my writing in reverse proportion - the more of them I get, the less time it takes for me to write the next one. Write for you guys is so much more rewarding than just writing for my own sake…


End file.
